


Depth of Field

by Grundy



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/F, First Age Aman - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27194362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: Elemmírë has been invited to an audience with the Queen of the Noldor. She isn't quite sure what to expect.
Relationships: Elemmírë/Findis (Tolkien)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 26
Collections: Innumerable Stars 2020





	Depth of Field

**Author's Note:**

  * For [raiyana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/gifts).



> Follows [Forced Perpective](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14580726), but can be read on its own.

Elemmírë waited nervously in the antechamber.

She wouldn’t have been nervous about visiting her friend, but a summons to an audience with the Queen of the Noldor was something else.

There was a glimmer of hope, though – at least she’d get to see Findis. It had been months since the last time Elemmírë caught so much as a glimpse of her dear friend hurrying from one meeting to another, a knot of harried-looking assistants bearing a welter of papers trailing in her wake.

She didn’t understand how it had all gone so wrong.

First had come the Darkening and the news of King Finwë’s murder. Then King Fëanaro had left with what seemed like little thought or care for those Noldor who remained in Tirion. Even his own sister didn’t seem to rate a second thought – and Elemmírë had always thought them so close. The Crown Prince had famously quarreled incessantly with his younger brother, but his sisters had been nearly as much the apples of his eye as his sons.

If the wretched man could only have seen what his tempestuous departure had done to Findis, perhaps he’d have come to his senses before it was too late. But the Doom foretold to the Noldorin host had been unjust enough to claim him before so many of the younger kin that had gone with him, or the Noldor that followed all of them.

At first there had been only Findis. Eventually her youngest brother had returned, but he could only be of limited help in relieving the burden of ruling that fell to Findis alone where before it had been shared between her father, mother, three brothers, and sister in addition to herself – not to mention all those nieces and nephews!

Elemmírë had seen less and less of her friend. It had been understandable in those first terrifying weeks of darkness, when no one knew quite how life was to go on and the Queen was needed everywhere for matters both practical and psychological. But even after that – after the new lights had been made, after life in Tirion and beyond slowly began to find a new equilibrium – Findis was no longer to be found in her usual haunts. Elemmírë didn’t even know if she had heard _Aldudénië_. She’d certainly never had the opportunity to hear the private verses intended for her ears.

That last time they had crossed paths, Findis had looked like she was wasting away to nothing. The whispers about Miriel that had never been entirely absent from Tirion in all the time Elemmírë had lived or worked in the city for once had nothing to do with Prince Fëanaro or Queen Indis. More and more they vented the fear seeping into what remained of the Noldor that their steadfast Queen might follow in the footsteps of her father’s first wife.

Surely Prince Arafinwë must see what every other set of eyes in Tirion had noticed? Was there _no one_ who had a care for Findis left?

Elemmírë nearly jumped out of her skin when the door opened – and promptly wished she’d dressed a trifle more formally. The note had indicated a private audience, and Findis famously had little care for fashion. (Not that she had ever needed to worry - between her younger sister and her nephew, she had always been impeccably styled for any state occasion. Prince Morifinwë had been so lovely about making sure she was always in the colors that suited her best.)

Elemmírë hadn’t reckoned with Princess Anairë being the one to meet her.

Perhaps a Vanyarin style hadn’t been the best idea after all. Under Princess Anairë’s sharp eyes, it took effort not to try belatedly (and doubtless ineffectively) to smooth out the not-quite-wrinkles in her tunic. At least she’d remembered to make certain there were no ink stains on her fingers!

“You’re punctual. That’s something, at least,” the princess said with a sigh. “Come along.”

Elemmírë, never one for court functions or protocol, was uncertain if she was meant to curtsey, bow, or if there was a particular phrase one was meant to say after being acknowledged. Blast, why couldn’t Findis have met her herself?

“My lady?” was all she could manage.

“You are here to see Findis, not be judged on the finer points court etiquette,” Princess Anairë said crisply. “There will be time enough for that later, should it prove necessary.”

Elemmírë wondered what under the stars the princess meant by ‘should it prove necessary’, but she wasn’t brave enough to ask. She wasn’t entirely certain that Anairë approved of this visit, and didn’t want to risk being denied at the last moment.

Instead, she trailed silently after the other woman as she was led not to any of the public rooms where Finwë had held meetings or gatherings during his life, but what appeared to be deep into the private section of the palace.

Anairë stopped outside a door that looked much like every other one on the corridor they were in.

“You may have an hour,” she said. “Please bear in mind that while she has been resting, she still tires far too easily.”

With that, Elemmírë was surprised to find herself being ushered into Findis’ rooms.

“Elemmírë! You came!”

Anything else she might have said to Princess Anairë went right out the window at how happy Findis sounded to see her.

“Of course I did,” she replied lightly, trying to conceal what a relief it was to see her.

For all she knew, Findis was going to tell her politely but firmly there must be no more such dedications as there had been in _Courtship and Marriage._ She must have noticed it – there was no way she could have missed it.

“It isn’t every day I am summoned to an audience with the High Queen,” Elemmírë added.

Findis’ face fell a bit.

“Oh, dear,” she sighed. “What did they write?”

Elemmírë extracted the invitation, only slightly the worse for the wear, and handed it over.

The snort it drew sounded far more like the Findis she knew.

“I suppose Anairë thought someone else might see it,” she said. “At least, I _hope_ that’s all it was. They know this is not some royal audience, we are _friends_.”

Elemmírë was unsure how to take the emphasis on friends, or who ‘they’ might be. Had the note been produced by a committee?

“At least, I hope we still are?” Findis said uncertainly. “I let myself get so caught up in the business of running Tirion that I forgot to make time for my friends. Well, not _forgot_ so much as didn’t make time for myself to remember…”

 _Courtship and Marriage_ , Elemmírë noted, was sitting on her bedside table. Which implied she had read it – or at least, was aware of the dedication.

“For my part, I hope we shall never be less, no matter how busy you find yourself,” she said, hoping that was an adequate compromise.

Findis smiled.

“Good,” she said in evident relief.

There was a pause, in which Findis seemed to be searching for the right words.

“I have been reading your new book,” she said at last.

“Yes?” Elemmírë said, trying – and failing, at least in her own estimation – to keep the eagerness and interest out of her voice.

Was Findis going to tell her kindly but firmly that they were only ever to be friends? She certainly had the perfect opening, if that was her intent.

“I cannot pretend I took it up myself,” Findis said slowly. “It was brought to my attention. Or at least, the dedication was.”

The dedication had been considerably toned down from what Elemmírë had originally intended, not least because the Noldorin printer she has always used was a cousin of Princess Anairë and had flatly refused to print it as written without approval from a representative of the royal family. Approval, needless to say, had not been granted.

The current wording was a compromise between what she had _wanted_ to say and what the printer didn’t risk losing business by printing. She couldn’t blame him – with only two printing houses surviving after the Exodus, and so little printing to be done, he had little choice.

“It was pointed out to me rather forcefully,” Findis continued, “that had the dedication come from Rumil, it would have seemed at the very least bold and more likely inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate would be one word for Rumil writing such a sentence out of the blue,” Elemmírë snorted.

Findis seemed torn between uncertainty and laughter.

“Yes. I was initially inclined to think it no less out of the blue from you, but then I was induced to reconsider.”

Elemmírë noted there had been a slight hesitation before ‘induced’.

“At any rate, I have read the book now, and I am pleased you saw fit to dedicate it to me.”

And with that, Elemmírë found to her bemusement that it was unexpectedly her move again.

“Oh for the love of Nienna, would you two _talk_ already?” called someone through the closed door.

Elemmírë blinked in surprise.

Surely no one was eavesdropping on the Queen of the Noldor in her own chambers?

Findis’ face had gone as red as Prince Morifinwë’s ever had – a rather endearing resemblance Elemmírë had never seen before.

“It was decided we needed to be chaperoned,” she explained.

“I know all three of your brothers _and_ your little sister, Findis Finwiel. Of _course_ you are being chaperoned,” another voice – that Elemmírë determined with a start was Princess Anairë – declared. “I am _not_ explaining to all of Tirion how their Queen married a nis they were not even aware was courting her!”

There was some noise beyond the door that seemed to indicate Princess Anairë was not the only listener.

Findis appeared too mortified to say anything at all, but Elemmírë suddenly found her heart light enough to sing. They would hardly be taking such precautions if Findis had called her here to say she would only ever see her as a _friend_ – and Princess Anairë’s words seemed to rule out that the royal family had concluded something closer than friendship could be permitted privately but not publicly acknowledged!

“I think if we are to be chaperoned, the usual Noldorin custom is that the chaperones should be _in the room_ ,” Elemmírë pointed out with some asperity, her voice pitched to carry.

The door opened promptly enough that she suspected their chaperones – for that was Princess Eärwen trying very hard not to laugh – had been hoping for such an invitation in the first place.

“We _were_ trying to give you some privacy,” Princess Anairë said with a reproachful look at Princess Eärwen.

“If we had given them more privacy, they might have needed another cycle of the sun or more to get to the point,” Eärwen shrugged unrepentantly. “You needn’t look at me like that, any of you! It’s taken how long for them to get this far?”

The question seemed largely rhetorical, and now it was Elemmírë’s turn to blush, for the princess’ words made plain that she had been less circumspect than she had thought before the Darkening.

“My sisters Anairë and Eärwen,” Findis introduced them – wholly unnecessarily, since anyone who lived in Tirion should recognize them.

“Yes, I can see that Findë,” Elemmírë sighed.

“Where is Nerdanel?” Findis asked, looking toward the door.

“She said we were terrible and she wanted no part of it,” Eärwen replied cheerfully.

“Which really means she’s gone to organize refreshments,” Anairë clarified with a sniff.

“She’s right, you’re terrible,” Findis complained, but without any real bite. Elemmírë has heard Findis angry before, and this was far from it. “You planned this, didn’t you?”

“Planned you being too tongue-tied to say anything to Elemmírë plainly and needing a bit of help?” Eärwen asked innocently.

Elemmírë wasn’t sure if she dared too much when she reached for Findis’ hand.

“They did rather expedite matters,” she said tactfully. “And I suppose a chaperone would be only proper.”

“They’re not chaperones, they’re just _nosy_ ,” Findis snorted. “Chaperones would have been present from the start, not listening outside the door, Eärwen Olwiel.”

Eärwen didn’t look the least bit sorry, and Elemmírë felt privately that she didn’t need to be.

“They can be both,” a new voice announced.

Princess Nerdanel – or should she be rightly Queen Nerdanel now? – stood in the doorway with a laden tray.

“Tea is the traditional drink for gossip in this house, Master Elemmírë, but if you prefer something else, you’ve only to say.”

“Gossip?” Findis asked suspiciously.

“Say rather getting to know our sister to be,” Anairë said smoothly.

“And planning how best to break the news to Tirion?” Findis added pointedly.

“There’s all the time in the world for that,” Nerdanel told them firmly. “I find myself more curious about your scholar, and only slightly less so about the conclusions in her latest work. I think that’s enough for today, don’t you?”

“I think that would be fine,” Elemmírë replied.

She looked at Findis as she spoke, and the light in Findis’ eyes when they met her own would have made even a far colder reception than this from the other royal ladies bearable.


End file.
